Cerannie R rated
by RoseFyre
Summary: PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS UNLESS YOU HAVE READ CHAPTERS 1 AND 2 OF CERANNIE AND THE AUTHOR'S NOTES!!!!!!!!!!!


Author's Note: DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT read this unless you have read the first two chapters of Cerannie, and you think you are ready for a very graphic version of the second chapter. I am SERIOUS here people, DO NOT read this unless you are CERTAIN you are prepared for it. Also, this is NOT based on personal experience, so please don't ask. For other notes, see the PG-13 version.  
  
Well, here goes.  
  
'Twas my tenth birthday, Midwinter Day, turnin from 455 ta 456, and I had been sent inta Corus ta buy some things the head maid, Salma, wanted so she could, as she said, "brighten up the pages' wing." It was dusk, I had done my shoppin, and I was walkin back ta the palace with a basket fulla pretty stuff, when I heard some noises comin from an alley nearby.  
  
I shouldn't'a looked. I really shouldn't'a. But I did. And I saw two street rats, both girls, neither more'n ten or so, lyin on tha ground, not movin. They was both bloody, and there was a man, well, not really a man, more like a. . . a teenager, standin over 'em. He had a whip in his hand and a knife in tha other one, and his eyes had some strange. . . feelin in 'em. He was wearin a tunic and hose, nobles' clothin, but without any fancy stuff on 'em. Just plain old brown, not the colors a any fief or town.  
  
I don't know WHY I went in, but I did. I yelled, "Stop!" and the man looked at me. I tried to slink away, back towards the mouth a tha alleyway, but he came after me, holdin that whip and glarin at me. I dropped tha basket and tried to run, but he grabbed ahold a my skirt and pulled me back in.  
  
Just then, tha other two girls ran away, bruised and bleedin though they were. "What the!" he yelled, then he said somethin that I ain't never been allowed ta say. "You!" he yelled, advancin on me. "You let them get away, and that means YOU are going to pay!"  
  
He grabbed me, and he began ta beat me. First he used his hands, then he used the whip. After I don't know how long, I was bruised and bleedin, lyin on the ground, not carin how dirty it was, just tryin ta get away, tryin ta block my body from his anger. That's when he cut off my hair, usin tha knife. My long, beautiful, curly brown hair, my hair I had never cut, not ever, was suddenly gone, not even down ta my shoulders no more, not even neither. He dropped the whip and the knife, and reached for me.  
  
He ripped off my clothes. 'Twas cold, almost freezin outside, but I wasn't thinkin 'bout that. I was only thinkin 'bout him bein on top a me. Not in a good way, though, but more like "what's he doin?" and also "when's he gonna leave?"  
  
He didn't leave. Instead, he pulled down his hose and took out his. . . thing. I didn't know what it was, seein's how my Pa was dead and I didn't know no boys. Then, he jammed it inta me. I screamed, but he put his mouth on top a mine, bruisin my lips with his.  
  
Then he began ta pump. He pushed back and forth, rockin himself farther in, all the while pressin me ta tha hard, rocky ground. I was cryin by that point, sobbin inta his face, tryin ta get away, burrowin myself inta tha ground.  
  
I could feel myself tearin. Not havin experienced. . . sex before, and not knowin too much 'bout it, I didn't know what was happenin, only that it was wrong and that it hurt. He was hurtin me, and I couldn't escape.  
  
After a while, I don't know how long, he stopped. I was still sobbin, and he was still lyin on and in me, but he wasn't rockin no more. I tried ta move away, ta lift him, but he was too heavy for me ta get out from under him. Also, he had muscles, and even though I had practice liftin heavy stuff, I was at least five years younger'n him, and I was a girl.  
  
Then he started again, and I went back ta cryin. After a little while, he stopped, lookin at the sky. He cursed again, then he pulled himself outa me and pushed his hose back up. He left, pretendin he was DIGNIFIED, and left me alone in the alley.  
  
That's when I realized it was dark out. Not just dusk, but night. And I was scared a tha dark. I grabbed my dress and put it on, not carin it was ripped, just that it covered me. I got the basket and ran for the palace, sobbin every step a tha way. I couldn't face Salma, so I just left tha basket outside a her room, hopin she'd find it. I went back ta my room, and that's when I realized that I was still holdin onta my hair.  
  
In my little room, with the door locked tight, I cried over my hair.  
  
  
  
Author's Note: Wow. That was painful to write. I hope that if you've gotten this far, you feel that it's been appropriate for you to see this. If you don't, I'm sorry. But you should've followed my advice. Please forgive me if I made it too graphic.  
  
That's all I'm going to say here. If you want other notes, please see the PG-13 rated version of this fic. Thank you.  
  
RoseFyre 


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